Noir and the Dark Side
by Shapby
Summary: Takes place after HBP. She was, is, and will be the only person that the Dark Lord would ever love...
1. Daughter of the Dark Lord

This is my first attempt on fanfiction.I have to admit that my English isn't that good, so there might be mistakes here and there, even though I've ran through these texts a million times. this fic takes place after the 6th book, **Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince**, so if you haven't read the book, there might be **SPOILERS**... a bit of hint: the story will revolve around the Dark Lord's world more than Harry's.

disclaimer: apparently, I am not that of a genious to have created Harry Potter...

anyway... on with the story...

* * *

NOIR and the Dark Side

* * *

'So you killed him, Severus?' 

Severus Snape snapped around. He was sure that he was alone in his den a couple seconds ago - though the querying voice immediately erased this thought. He recognized the tone of the voice right away. 'Noir.'

The latter was sitting calmly on Snape's armchair with her chin rested on both hands. 'Amusing how Dumbledore's men haven't found you yet.' With the inquisitiveness of the adolescence she was, she poked at a small hole on the velvet sheet of the armchair. With a flick of her finger, the hole swiftly vanished, leaving the velvet whole.

'Noir, what do you want?' asked Snape, straight. It was obvious that he was annoyed by the other's abrupt appearance.

The onyx-haired girl stared at Snape for a brief moment. 'Nothing, nothing at all. It's just that I had a few words with my father. He said to keep an eye on you, especially after these recent incidents. He thought it might have caused you shock.'

'I am not an infant. I am fully capable of taking care of myself, thank you,' replied Snape. He then added, 'If there were anything incapable of handling, I do have Wormtail assisting.'

'The Dark Lord has ordered Wormtail to join him,' said Noir. 'Wormtail will leave tonight to the Dark Lord's presence. Any tardiness will not be tolerated.'

Obviously, Wormtail had been eavesdropping from behind the camouflaged door, for as soon as these words were alleged, there was a racket of footsteps hurrying up the stairs - rather noisy. Snape and Noir knew that Wormtail was much obsessed with the Dark Lord as much as he was scared of his friends back at his old school.

With the absence of the foul, Snape and Noir relaxed. The conversation diverged from single to plural.

'Was it the Unbreakable Vow?' asked Noir. She summoned a couple of teacups with her left hand while the other hand magicked a teapot to brew up the beverage.

'Old Dumbledore didn't want the boy to turn into a murderer. So instead of having the boy kill him, he pled me to do the honors. It had nothing to do with the Vow,' answered Snape, rather icily. It felt bitter to mention the incident over again.

Noir looked up at the man in front of her. She smiled. 'It sounds so lot Dumbledore.' She poured the tea into the cups without magic. 'I knew you wouldn't do it because of the Vow.'

'You did?' asked Snape, taken aback, though he didn't show even a glimpse of surprise.

Noir chuckled. 'You're just like that boy, never were truly evil at heart. Rather sweet actually.'

'I don't know whether I should be flattered or devastated by that statement,' replied Snape, sipping thoroughly on his cup of tea. As he placed his cup down on the table, Snape exhaled a long breath. 'But speaking of evil at heart, neither are you, Noir, daughter of the Dark Lord.'

Noir only smiled.

* * *

author's note: I know it's short, but please do comment and review! I know the plot's rather... strange, but please do be kind and review...thank you... 


	2. Interruption

disclaimer:I do not own Harry Potter

* * *

NOIR and the Dark Side

* * *

It used to be a warm and nice house, but the appearances of it now left no trace of the past. The house now was dark, very dimly lit by only a few torches. The wallpaper had wearied off from its walls, revealing mould-covered dividers. The floor screeched loudly every time it was walked upon. The glass of the window had shattered a long time ago, so the ventilations were tacked up with thick boards of wood to prevent any violation from the weather coming in.

'Nagini, my dear,' hissed a voice.

A long, yet slim, snake came slithering towards the voice summoning it. It slid onto the arm chair where its owner was sitting elegantly. The man - rather half-man - stroked his reptile companion gently.

'There is prey for you in the backyard. I'm sure you'd be delighted,' he said to the snake.

Was it only an illusion, or was it true that the snake had a slight grin on her triangle-like face? With an elated aura, the snake glided along the hallway, set out to the grounds.

The man now stood straight up. His façade somehow resembled to his reptile pet, with slits as nostrils, and there was a shade of grey at his skin. His robes were extremely long, swaying along his graceful movements. 'Ah, Wormtail,' he suddenly alleged, sensing the servant's attendance. 'Earlier than I expected.'

The servant who had appeared out of thin air a split second ago stuttered. 'I was told that you called upon me, Master.'

'Yes, I did,' said the master. 'I had Noir to keep an eye on Severus. Noir herself wanted to have a chat with that teacher of hers. You do know how she doesn't like to be bothered when she is with Severus. And even the Great Voldemort gives in on his daughter.' The Dark Lord actually gave a little - nearly inaudible - sigh.

There was a short silence before the Dark Lord then turned to Wormtail and announced, 'I will be expecting more guests, so you should get this place prepared.'

Wormtail couldn't resist not asking, 'Who will it be, Master?'

The master raised an eyebrow. 'I am personally amused by your wits to ask such a question, for it is none of your business, Wormtail.' The other whimpered quietly. 'But I shall let you know anyway, as a reward for your early appearance. I am very much calling upon our young boy, Draco Malfoy.'

* * *

His mother was a bit exaggerating. Why in the world was she hugging him as if he was still a toddler? Heaven's sake, he's seventeen! Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes in his mother's embrace as she stroked his head gently.

'Be careful, Draco. Do not disappointment him,' she kept on repeating.

Draco slowly brushed his mother's hand away. 'I will if I come late, Mum. The Mark on my arm burnt almost half an hour ago. You are delaying me, Mother.'

Narcissa Malfoy looked up at her only son. 'True,' she nodded, wiping away a tear from under her left eye. 'But do promise me you will be careful.'

'I will,' replied Draco shortly, without thinking it over. He slipped on a mask and flapped his robes around swiftly as he Disapparated from his mother's sight. Irritating, he thought, how his mother treated him as if he was still five. But wasn't he always treated like that? Not just by his mother, but also by fellow Death Eaters. It was as if they did not trust him and his abilities. Sure, the last plan had strayed a bit from what was arranged, but it did succeed in the end, didn't it?

Draco must have still been thinking about this by the time he had Apparated at his current destination. For then a cold, crispy voice startled him. 'Deep in thoughts, I presume, my dear boy.'

Draco immediately became aware of his surroundings. He was no longer in his family's mansion; he was now in a small, damp house. He recognized it right away as his Master's cavity. The Dark Lord was sitting fully composed in front of him with his dazzling red eyes fixed on him.

'My Lord,' said Draco at once, falling upon his knees. He bent down to give honour to the host.

'Yes, yes, parents may be very irksome, but do pleasure them while they are still at hand,' Lord Voldemort said along, obviously having read his inferior's mind before hand. 'And I have noticed, dear boy,' he continued, 'that you have not mastered Occlumency.' He gave Draco a smile - or more of a sneer.

Draco hung his head low, desperate for what was to come. 'Indeed, I have not, my Lord.'

'Severus Snape,' mentioned Voldemort, 'is to teach you that lesson. This time, I am very sure it will not fail as it failed on the Potter boy.' Draco twitched at the name. 'Foul wizards will be after you, especially after these recent occurrences. With the old school closed, your education will be handed over to the finest teaching wizards and witches of the Dark Side. I have been arranging things with a few… friends of mine…'

But the Dark Lord's explanation was interrupted by a faint popping sound and the presence of a young, tanned-skin witch. She right away butted into Lord Voldemort's conversation, announcing happily, 'Father, can I visit Mother's tomb for a while? I'll go with Severus and I won't take long, I promise!'

Lord Voldemort made a motion as if he wanted to clap a hand over his forehead, though he did not in the end. Instead, he said plainly, 'Noir, are you not aware that I am having guests?'

The young witch spun around and spotted Draco kneeling on the floor. Even though Draco was wearing his Death Eater mask, Noir could figure out who the person was. Her oval shaped face broke into a wide grin. 'Draco! I haven't seen you in such a long time!'

Draco was dragged to his feet by Noir's petite hands. She hugged the teenage boy as if he were her long-lost brother. 'Bali was no fun without you,' she pouted like a kindergarten child.

Draco made a great fight against the desire to pat the other one's head.

'In the mean time,' Lord Voldemort kept on with the previous talk, 'you, Draco, will be guarding my little daughter while she is in the country. You do know how things can become reckless with her around.'

Draco gave a small nod. He was still imprisoned by the small figure wrapped around his torso.

'And Noir,' said Lord Voldemort.

Noir immediately let go of Draco -- finally giving him a chance to breathe. 'Yes, Father?'

'You may go with Severus, Draco will be going with you two also. Fetch WOrmtail on the way for me. I sent him of for hunting,' said Lord Voldemort. 'And _do not_ cling on to Draco like when you were six, you are sixteen. It is very unnecessary to act that way.'

'But I missed him, Father,' pointed Noir. She then added, 'I missed you too, Father.' She walked over to her father to give him an affectionate hug.

'Yes, yes,' replied Lord Voldemort, feeling strange -- what emotion was this? He gave a single pat on Noir's back, and then said, 'Now, go.'

With those two last words, the two teenagers vanished into thin air. Once again on his own, Lord Voldemort -- Greatest of Dark Wizards -- let out a huge sigh.

* * *

author's note: it took me a long time to edit this thing... sorry... how was it? I am very much awaiting for reviews, thank you... to Jinxeh (did i get your name right?)-- thanks for reviewing, i changed the summary, but i think it still kinds sucks, anyone willing to help me on the summary? grin ...to Audriel, yeah, gw tau banget summarynya kacau... rimba: thanks for being the first reviewer... keep on reading and reviewing, thank you


	3. Trauma

And there was I thinking that measles were some kind of sickness for toddlers. Boy, was I ever wrong. well, yes, dear old measles have caught up with me, and caused the delay of this chapter. I apologize deeply. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

Disclaimer: I do not own the story of Harry Potter, but I do own Noir, thank you.

* * *

NOIR and the Dark Side

* * *

Three figures Apparated on a hill that was covered with blooming violets and carnations. The aroma of the two flowers clashed rather stingy, but the sight was ever eye-catching. It was as if someone had laid carpets of purple and faded pink on the unleveled Earth below.

There was a small monument placed on the very top of the hill. It was made of pale marble with a slate embossed with scripts.

'Ah, never changed,' Noir sighed. She drew her right hand out from behind her robes and made flower petals shower the marble monument. 'Needs a little sweeping though,' Noir commented, summoning a broomstick from out of nowhere. She made herself busy cleaning the monument.

A few steps away, Malfoy paid attention on the girl's action. He turned to Severus Snape and questioned, 'So it's true? She really is --?'

'A Maneficus?' Snape interjected. 'Yes, and has always been. A wonderful, rare gift it is, to be able to do all sorts of magic without a need of the wand.' He paused for a second then continued, 'Her non-verbal incantation abilities are outstanding also. She can simply kill us without turning her back from us or moving a single muscle.'

Malfoy's jaw dropped very slightly, as he listened to his professor. Was it true that the man had just given a compliment ever so highly on the girl? For all Malfoy's life knowing Snape, that professor of his never gives high compliments to just anybody. Yet the fact that he just admitted was --

'Surprisingly deadly?' said Snape to his pupil, reading his mind clearly. 'No, Noir wouldn't even hurt a fly, if it wasn't necessary. Traumas occurred during her early years so she doesn't have such fond of using hexes that cause major harm.'

'Ah yes,' Malfoy nodded. 'I remember those incidents.'

The two men stood still reminiscing some time ago, while Noir continued sweeping the site. She hummed along as she swayed back and forth. It was either the area was actually an avec habitat or her humming attracted birds, or maybe both, causing a white flock of doves hover over the monument. The scene was hypnotizing, simply ecstasy to the eye.

Noir clapped her hands together once and the broom disappeared. Then she kneeled in front of the tomb. She whispered some words that were inaudible to Snape and Malfoy. She gently placed a hand on the tomb and merely stared at the embossing for a few seconds. It read:

Rest in Peace

Rani Blanc

Loving wife, caring mother, and dear friend

Neither date of birth nor date of death was encrypted on the tomb, but it was not important, thought Snape as he walked up to Noir's side. What truly matters was what happened between the two dates, right?

Noir heard her teacher's footsteps enclosing. She slowly got to feet and sighed. 'We should go back. Father might be asking why we're taking so long.'

With her right hand, she reached Snape's hand and Malfoy's with the other. The three of them then walked into the magical transport tunnel.

* * *

'Father, we're back!' Noir exclaimed at the entrance of the house. 'We've got Wormtail also.' "Got" was a bit understating the condition of Wormtail. He was being half-dragged by Malfoy.

What answered was a crispy, cold voice. 'Good then.' Lord Voldemort who was stirring some ingredients in a heated cauldron turned to Snape. 'I have just realized something and I have plans to be established. You, Draco, and Wormtail should go to the den. I will have a few words with you three.'

'You're not planning to kill anyone again, are you, Father?' asked Noir, with an inquiring look on her face.

'That, my dear, depends on how the plan comes out,' replied her father. He beckoned the rest of the group into the den, closing the door behind him silently.

Noir waited alone in the living room, sitting on wooden chair. She stared at her hands on her lap for a long time. Every time she heard her father had plans, it always ended with murder. She had only lived with her father for two years now, but she had experienced three plans that almost succeeded perfectly and even though in the end they did fail, they managed to kill several people on the way.

_Death_, thought Noir.

_Blood. Blood everywhere: on the floor, the walls, and the ceilings. A single corpse lay in the corner, not even whole. Her teddy bear was drenched in red crimson. She was drenched in red crimson. What happened? Where is this?_

Old memories flashed through Noir's mind, several parts of it missing. It wasn't a pleasant one, indeed.

_Noir clenched her tiny fists so hard that they started to whiten. Who was it? With a teddy bear in her left hand, she walked up to the stiff body and brushed the hair out from its visage. Yes, she recognized that pale, rigid face somehow. Her small hand wiped the blood away. Yes. Mother._

* * *

'Understood?' asked Lord Voldemort to his inferiors, as he finished his lengthy explanations.

The three merely nodded.

The Dark Lord seemed satisfied. He clasped his long and bony hands together. 'Well, then. I should--!'

There was an abrupt halt to the conversation as a shrill shriek of horror erupted from the living room. The shriek was so high-pitched that it made a few empty window sills clatter slightly. All four men recognized the voice automatically. 'Noir.'

Snape drew a short breath and turned to Lord Voldemort, 'Master, I believe it has happened again.'

'Yes, I know, Severus,' replied Voldemort. 'She has not… come over it yet?'

Snape shook his head. 'Traumas that occur on children are much more difficult to overcome. Let me handle this. Come Draco, lend me a hand.'

The two entered the dimmed living room where Noir sat on a chair with her hands clutched over her head. She was muttering words to herself, once in a while shaking her head violently. Her body was rocking gently forwards and backwards on the chair. Her eyes had gone blank and were staring at the floor without interest.

Snape knelt down beside the young girl and placed a hand on her shoulder. Noir abruptly looked up at Snape. Then her eyes snapped into horror. 'Professor, I didn't do it! I didn't mean to! I didn't know! Professor!'

'It's okay now, it's okay,' said Snape in a hush, allowing Noir to embrace his neck. Noir shivered fiercely in his arms. Snape turned his head to Draco, who had been watching all along, and mouthed, 'Get a Sleeping Draught.'

Draco nodded and began to search for the draught on the shelf. He found it bottled in a small pinkish container and handed it over to Snape, who tipped the contents into Noir's quivering lips.

Even with the draught, Noir kept on muttering, 'I didn't mean to do it, I didn't mean to…' over and over until the potion finally came to its full effective use. Once the situation was calm again, Lord Voldemort entered the living room and gazed at his daughter. 'Take her to her room upstairs.'

Snape nodded and lifted the miniscule figure.

'And, Severus,' the Dark Lord added, 'don't forget to tell her about her part of the plan.'

Snape gave a glance at his master for moment, but quickly nodded again. Then he proceeded up the stairs, accompanied by Draco, who was staring particularly anxiously at Noir's figure.

* * *

Author's note: my skin still itches badly. I know I shouldn't be up facing the computer but I couldn't help it.

Audriel: ah, my friend, thank you for keeping up to date with this fic, how kind of you between your mad lessons and everything… how's driving?

Dracofan2207: I read your fic, and it's really nice! Too bad that the chapters are short… and they keep on ending with cliff-hangers! I had to read them all! Couldn't help myself...

'a Harry Potter fan': perhaps, could be, perhaps, I do need to read more. But dear fellow, what's the use of fanfictioning if we can't add a bit twist of our own?

Jinxeh: ahh, my faithful reader… I managed to gulp down some chapters of your fics, as they were very lengthy indeed… thank you for reviewing, it really helps!

Thank you all for reading and reviewing, do continue to do so… I'll be waiting…


	4. Birthday Flight

Pre-notes: i got lots of reviews! okay maybe not that much, but it was nice to read your reviews, they supported and inspired me to write. I'm truly sorry that i can't response currently -- dreadful college coming. but i hope i'll be able to in the next chapter.

errr, since this chapter was made in a hurry, there might be mistakes here and there. But even so, please, do continue to read on…

Disclaimer: standard

* * *

NOIR and the Dark Side

* * *

Harry Potter checked his watch on his left wrist for what seemed to be the umpteenth time that night. Just when he wanted time to go faster, it felt like someone had put a cork in the sand clock, preventing the sand from falling. Harry sighed and placed his head on his resting arm. Anytime now, he was to be turning seventeen, meaning that he could finally taste the air of freedom. 

Okay, that would be exaggerating a bit. But it did seem that way to Harry. Of all these (almost) seventeen years, he had been treated in slavery by his relatives, the Dursleys. It was only lately that they had slowed down on torturing him, when it turned out that he was a wizard.

Yes, Harry was a wizard, learning magic of all sorts. He had been a student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the past six years, but since the Headmaster of the School, Albus Dumbledore, died recently, Harry decided to quit the education, as the school was temporarily closed.

As time ticked slowly, Harry had plans made up in his mind. He had to get to the Weasleys' house, the Burrow, where his friend's, Ron Weasley's, brother Bill was getting married. After that, Harry considered to drop in to Grimmauld Palace, a house which his late godfather, Sirius Black, had inherited to him. There, he was to track down the whereabouts of Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord who had killed nearly everyone whom Harry ever cared for -- his parents, his godfather, some of his friends, the Headmaster.

Harry had so many plans that he wanted to fulfil that he started to doubt whether he was capable of doing all at once. _Well at least, I've got to get to Ron's_, thought Harry. He looked over to his regular school trunk, stuffed with all of his belongings, then shifted his gaze over to the broomstick (o faithful Firebolt, thought Harry, smiling) that lay on the floor beside him. Harry had an idea of flying over to the Weasley's, since he still hadn't had the license of Apparating -- the ability to pop up in any place needed. He was going hide his trunk and himself under his Invisibility Cloak as he flew.

Harry knew that it wasn't safe, these days, to travel during night time. Lord Voldemort had come back from his long disappearance, greater and more powerful than ever. His followers had started to attack many people, causing terror throughout the wizarding world. But even those who were not wizards had to be cautious -- without their knowing. Voldemort's followers, Death Eaters as they call themselves, had a fond of attacking Muggles -- non-magic people.

But Harry simply couldn't help staying any longer at the Dursley's. He definitely couldn't stand another minute with his Uncle Vernon snoring his wits out. That's why Harry didn't mind travelling at night time. He just wanted to get rid of his disastrous life at the Dursleys, though he had to wait until he was exactly seventeen.

Right, thought Harry, two more minutes.

Harry walked over to his owl, Hedwig. He released her from the cage she was in and whispered, 'You go over to Ron's first, okay?' The snowy white owl nipped his finger affectionately and took the flight out the window.

The last minute of his sixteenth year finally faded. As soon as the watch ticked number twelve, Harry Transfigured the owl cage into a leathered belt, rather badly -- it still had a lock on it, but Harry didn't mind. He rounded the belt on his trunk, and made the trunk change its shape slightly with his wand so it could hang onto his broom safely.

Harry took out a single piece of parchment with a farewell note written on it.

_Dear Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley,_

_I wonder whether you all would actually read this letter, but I wrote it anyway._

_I would like to thank you all for these past seventeen years for taking me in, even though I was a wizard._

(Harry grinned when he was writing this. He imagined how his uncle would react to the word 'wizard'.)

_I have decided to continue life on my own. I will be staying my late godfather's house, so don't worry about me._

(Though Harry doubted very much that they would.)

_Sorry for all the trouble I've caused through all these years. Thank you once again._

_Signed,_

_Harry Potter_

Harry chuckled at his ability of writing letters as he set the parchment on his desk. He folded the parchment and noted on the top: to Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley.

Harry put on his Invisibility Cloak and forced his broom, trunk attached, out the window. With a swift move of the leg, Harry climbed out the window and mounted his Firebolt. He looked back for second to take glimpse of the house he had lived in for these past years. Harry let out an inaudible sigh.

And with another swish of the leg, Harry Potter finally set out for the night ahead of him.

* * *

Arthur Weasley let out a huge sigh. 'Well, if so, I will have to register our grounds to the Ministry. It ought to have Muggle repellents, at least.' 

His wife, Molly, leapt with joy and flung her arms around his neck. 'Oh Arthur, I knew you were so generous!'

They had been spending the last two hours in the kitchen of the Burrow, deciding whether to enchant the grounds with flowers or not. If they did -- which happened to be the conclusion -- they would have to have a way to distract Muggles, non-magic people, away from the site.

Another woman stood near the couple and chipped in, 'Oh zis eez going to be vairy wonderful! Eet will be just as I have imagined all my life!' This woman, with silvery-blonde hair, then rushed to the stairs, saying, 'Bill must be informed!'

Mrs Weasley smiled at her husband. 'See, even Fleur's happy.'

'I hope so. Registering wouldn't be easy, especially with things going on lately. The Ministry's been rather touchy about stuff,' said Mr Weasley. He took out his traveling robes from the cupboard. 'Well, I should get going, if you want things ready by this morning.'

'Oh, yes. Do be careful on the way,' Mrs Weasley reminded her husband. Her cheerful face changed into a worried one.

As Mr Weasley reached for the door knob, there was a horrible crashing sound just outside the door. Something, or maybe even someone, had hurled into the dustbins causing a major ruckus. Mr Weasley backed from the door slowly.

Mrs Weasley held her face in horror. 'Arthur, could it be--?'

Mr Weasley placed a finger on his lips to hush his wife. Another five seconds passed by without any sound. Mr Weasley approached the door and turned the knob. The door opened to the cold, dark wee hours of dawn.

A figure had tumbled into the dustbins. It writhed slightly causing a bin to topple over. Mr Weasley raised his wand at the figure and started an incantation. 'Stupef--!'

'Hold it, Mr Weasley!' shouted the figure. 'It's me, Harry!'

Sure enough, as soon as the draped cloak was removed, Mr Weasley could see the familiar façade of the boy. Harry's trunk had collided terribly with the other bins.

Mr Weasley contorted his eyebrows slightly. 'How am I supposed to be sure that you are really Harry Potter, not some Death Eater undercover?'

'I _am_ Harry Potter,' said Harry. He sighed desperately when Mr Weasley held his face sternly. 'Err, you call Mrs Weasley "Mollywobbles"?' Harry gave a try, hoping this was enough to make Mr Weasley convinced.

'How did you know that?' asked Mr Weasley, with his wand still pointing at Harry.

'You asked Mrs Weasley last summer,' answered Harry.

Mr Weasley shrugged rather sheepishly, and shook Harry's hand. 'Just making sure of things,' he said, grinning. 'Having a night stroll, Harry?'

Harry gave a grin to Mr Weasley in return as they entered the kitchen. Mrs Weasley immediately brightened up as she saw Harry. 'Oh goodness,' she sighed, 'I thought it was You-Know-Who, in the middle of the night and all…'

Mr Weasley handed Harry and once again headed to the door. 'I'll be back by sunrise.' With that, he vanished just outside the door.

Mrs Weasley smiled at Harry and said, 'It's so nice you could make it here, dear, though I would rather you not travel at night time.'

She led Harry to the second floor, to Ron's room in which they found the red-haired teenage boy dozing off loudly. Mrs Weasley told Harry that Billl's wedding ceremony would be held the next morning by noon. With that, she left Harry to change into pyjamas and be gradually sent off to the long-awaited dreamland.

* * *

The commotion occurring the next morning woke Harry up. Everyone had got up earlier to prepare the wedding. Harry and Ron, who granted him a happy birthday and gave him a wrapped present, dressed quickly and choked down a certain amount of breakfast. 

Mrs Weasley spotted Ron and forced him to put on his dress robes.

'But Mum, there's still four hours till the ceremony!' wailed Ron. It was quite understandable for him to refuse, for dress robes came in multi layers and the weather outside was sizzling. 'I'd be drenched!'

'Well then,' snapped Mrs Weasley, 'help me with the ice sculptures!'

The two left Harry unaccompanied. The other Weasleys' -- except Percy, Fred, and George -- were busy with the wedding ceremony site. Harry's other friend, Hermione Granger, had decided to come to the ceremony later only. She usually would spend a night at the Burrow, but it seemed that she had other things going on.

There wasn't much to do after breakfast. Everyone seemed to be busy. Harry couldn't find a gap to start a conversation with Ron or Ginny, Ron's sister. Bored, Harry chose to saunter the grounds.

Very …colourful, thought Harry as he walked through the grounds of the Burrow that morning. Everything seemed to be enchantingly covered with flowers, careless of what colour they each were. Harry wondered whether Fleur would mind the clashing colours, remembering that the part-Veela was very touchy about everything that did not come to her senses.

Harry spotted Bill, all dressed and standing rather anxiously by the altar. Despite the lines of weariness on his face, Bill, who had his long hair tied very neatly by the neck, held himself very handsomely that day. Or maybe it was the bow and tails, thought Harry.

Harry walked up to the groom and asked, 'I thought you were supposed to be in the groom's room.'

Bill looked up at Harry. 'Oh well, that room made me nervous.' Bill held out a hand and said, 'Happy birthday! So, finally seventeen?'

Harry shook Bill's hand and grinned widely. 'Thanks.' Bill took Harry's side and they strolled through the temporary garden.

'Ah, there they are!' exclaimed Bill, suddenly, gesturing to the gates.

Harry was surprised, wondering who Bill meant. But when two identical figures appeared around the gates, Harry knew that Bill meant his younger twin brothers. They were both wearing robes of light yellow, making the colourful background even brighter. A young witch accompanied them.

'Hello, Harry, happy birthday to you,' Fred said, in a certainly fake manner. Harry nodded slightly, rather curiously. Fred then turned to Bill and said, 'Bill, nice to see you too.' He held out a hand to Bill to shake.

Bill lifted an eyebrow, but shook the hand anyway. Nearly automatically, a huge cloud of purplish smoke erupted around Bill's head, sending down a local mad storm of shocking pink bubbles and revolving rubber ducks. Five seconds later the clouds vanished, leaving Bill soaked in pink liquid and the grass littered with rubber ducks.

'Our latest product, Bubble-Bluff Ringlets!' announced George, pointing at the ring on Fred's finger. 'Four sickles each! We've just got them perfected! Actually it does need a bit more of explosion at the beginning…'

Bill gave a pat on the twins' shoulders. 'You two made the groom to change his best suit!' Obviously, Bill did not want to start a trend of getting married in pink. The four laughed together.

Bill set off to the house to change as Harry and the twins watched. Fred then turned to the witch behind him and said, 'Remind me to add more explosions to the clouds.' The witch nodded happily.

Fred looked at Harry. 'I reckon you haven't met our new assistant, have you, Harry?'

Harry glanced at the witch and shook his head. She was olive-skinned, with wavy long raven hair. Opposite from the twins' cheerful attire, the assistant was wearing fully black robes; it looked like some sort of Harry's old school robes. But even so, the witch seemed to share the same high-spirited, comical character as the twins.

'Well, see, our former assistant, Verity, suddenly got sick this summer, so we had to seek for another assistant. It turns out that this girl is very reliable, especially as a source of ideas,' said Fred, grinning wide. 'This is Harry Potter,' continued Fred, gesturing at Harry. 'And Harry, this is Noir.'

* * *

author's note: aah :D how was it? Conflicts will be coming up in the next few chapters... Read and reviews please, thank you! O yeah, since I'm starting college in a couple days, I might be a bit slow on updating… sorrysorrysorry… but in the mean time, reviews please, thanks! 


	5. Suggestions

Pre-notes: includes standard disclaimers. God, it's been such a long time. Anyway, thank you to those who reviewed on the previous chaps: I'm very sorry for the very, very, very long delay on the updates. But for now, why don't you read this chapter? I hope it comes to your interest enough to forgive me n-n!

* * *

Noir and the Dark Side

* * *

Harry and Noir shook hands and exchanged smiles. Harry managed to notice that Noir apparently had very large dark-coloured eyes and was wearing a very interesting star-shaped ornament as a brooch at the collar of her robes. And again, was it just Harry or did Noir lay her eyes a bit too long on him than necessary? Perhaps he was just imagining things.

* * *

The wedding went perfect. Well, almost. If it weren't for Fred and George's special dungbomb attack on the groom during the festive lunch, it would have been perfect. The dung odour lasted long enough around the dining area that it made everyone lose their appetite. So instead of eating, the bunch went back to the grounds where the wedding took place beforehand, to sit and have some chit-chat.

'My dress robes still smell filthy,' said Fred, sniffing on his sleeves.

Noir laughed. 'Wasn't it your fault that it stinks?'

'We should change into something more comfortable. The wedding ceremony's over anyway,' George suggested. His twin nodded and the two strode off to the house, leaving Noir with no one to talk to.

Noir turned around in her chair and spotted Harry Potter, seated in the far side of the grounds, engaged in a deep conversation with one of the red haired boys and a girl with brown bushy hair. They had serious looks on their faces. Noir stared at the three for a moment before she glanced around quickly. With a casual touch to her ear as she tucked her fringes behind her ears, Noir began to listen to the conversation as clear as if she were in the same huddle herself.

'I've been on research during these days, lately,' she heard the bushy hair. 'I think I've nearly read every book available in the wizard world, and I still haven't got a single clue about the whereabouts.' It was obvious that this girl was furious.

The red hair laughed. 'As if they would have it printed in books, Hermione. "The Dark Lord's best hideout turns out to be in London." They wouldn't be so blatant.'

'Very funny, Ron.' Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Well, I wasn't searching for that. I was looking up for his history. It seems that the Horcruxes are located at spots which have hosted special occasions throughout Voldemort's life. I've tracked down all of the Gaunts' former residents, the Riddles' former residents, even Slytherin's resident, but I haven't…'

'Hang on,' said Harry, raising a hand. 'Slytherin's?'

'Of course,' replied Hermione. 'It's just like Gryffindor as he had Godric's Hollow.'

'Right,' Harry nodded. 'So, what were saying again?'

'Oh just forget it,' said Hermione, waving her hand carelessly in the air. 'I can't put two and two together anyway.'

The three sat in silent for a few moments. Harry let out a deep sigh. He had his head so occupied on going after the Dark Lord that he even forgot that he hadn't got a starting point on his investigation. 'Once I'm at Grimmauld Palace, I'll start digging up books too, I guess. We should speed up things – if we don't, the Death Eaters will take action again.'

Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement.

'Well, if I were you three, I wouldn't search for Voldemort in books.'

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up at the speaker. Harry shielded his eyes with a hand and squinted against the bright afternoon sun to see that the girl in black attire (what was her name again? Noir?) was standing near them.

'I apologize. I couldn't help eavesdropping. Your conversation was particularly interesting,' Noir admitted.

'We don't really mind,' replied Harry, sending a cautious glance to both Ron and Hermione.

Hermione gave Harry an unnoticeable nod, showing that she understood him to be aware of the stranger. Then she turned to Noir and asked, 'Why shouldn't we search in books?'

Noir smiled and said, 'I know you think it's untrustworthy to listen to a stranger's advice, but to be honest, books – especially ones of the Dark Side – are mostly misleading. There's no way a book would be specifically about the Dark Lord, his history, and etcetera. Why, I reckon not even his followers have such knowledge about him.'

'Dumbledore knew about him,' blurted Harry.

'Your late headmaster knew about the Dark Lord, yes, I suppose,' agreed Noir, 'having the fact that he was part of the history himself, was he not?'

'Howd'ya know that?' asked Ron. He had a glint of suspicion in his eyes.

Noir smiled again. 'That's just what I was going to advise you to do. Instead of reading thick books that contain nothing but rubbish,' – Hermione gaped at Noir – 'I suggest you talk straight to the source of information. I believe that was how your Dumbledore managed to gather his information as well.'

True, thought Harry. Dumbledore had known Voldemort's history all the way long, and, not to mention, also had access to certain people. After gathering the information, Dumbledore would keep it in his thoughtful basin of his, Pensieve. Dumbledore was perfect as source of information, aside from the fact that he was no more living.

'Just tell me,' started Harry, looking back at Noir, 'how could it be possible to - ?'

Noir was nowhere to be seen.

'Where'd she go?' asked Harry, puzzled.

* * *

Where did she go indeed? After her conversation with Harry, Hermione, and Ron, Noir went right away to her employers to report that she would be going back to the shop to sort the newly arrived items. But, of course, she wasn't heading that way. Instead, from the wedding, she went straight back to the flat she rented in Diagon Alley and took out her potion kit. She set her cauldron on the fire and began to stir in a variety of bluish herbs. She spent nearly the rest of the afternoon in that room, concentrating on the mixture.

It was not till the sky was dark that she finally emerged from her cavity. Noir stretched out her worn arms. She let out a muffled yawn. She settled her self by a wide, opened window. She inhaled the fresh night air.

The wind blew against her night gown. If one were to watch her from a distance, it was as if she had wings made of silk: wide flocks from the sides of her gown were caught in the coil. Her face had a distinct glow against the moonlight, as it was full that night.

And _he_ -- he had been there for almost an hour, absorbing every detail that she allowed him to without approaching anywhere near her: the way her hair lay in a delicate braid on her shoulder or how the glimmering light outside silhouetted her curves perfectly. He enjoyed the sight alright. He smacked his self mentally. He wasn't there to have an eye fiesta.

He stepped out from the shadows of the halls.

She turned to the sound of his footsteps. 'Draco,' she said, shortly, accustomed to his presence.

'Noir,' he replied, nodding his head in acknowledgement.

Her straight face immediately lit up as she said jauntily, 'The wedding was wonderful, wasn't it? And the flowers! They were very bright and colorful, indeed!' She clapped her hands together joyfully and continued, 'Oh, and I can't believe I met him! I met Harry Potter! Goodness, today was certainly amazing!'

'Please, do not plan anything that is considered hazard to your own good,' said Draco in a cold, rapid tone, cutting Noir's merry attitude.

Noir raised her eyebrows for a second, before quickly mimicking an innocent look. 'I'm not planning anything dangerous.'

Draco gave Noir a stern glare, completely doubting her words. Then he sighed. 'I guess it cannot be helped. But, please, I do not wish to be blamed if anything happens to you. To do a wrong once is enough for me.'

Noir looked at Draco and gave him a sincere and assuring smile. 'I will never let you be blamed for anything that happens to me. For everything that you've done for me, I am thankful. To be such a burden to you, certainly I do not hope so.'

He lowered his head slightly in gratitude and stepped back. 'It is late, lady. You should get some sleep, now.'

'Indeed,' she replied. She bid him goodnight and gave him one last smile before heading towards her private quarters.

Draco folded his arms and slowly leaned his right shoulder upon the brick wall as he watched the young lady's figure fade away. He was sure she was up to something; if not, she would not have so obviously initiated a conversation with the Boy Who Lived. Draco knew Noir, and where her abilities lay, good enough to know whatever she was brewing up in her mind that is would cause more harm to her own self than other people.

Draco shifted his gaze to the clear summer night sky.

He was worried alright. It wasn't for the sake that she was the Daughter of the Dark Lord, but it was more for the sake of person she was herself. Draco never had siblings. He was raised alone, except for the presence of the now young lady. He always took her as a great friend and a cheerful younger sister.

Perhaps, even more than just that.

* * *

While Draco was drowned in his deep thoughts, Noir, on the other hand, had not gone to bed. She was keeping her mind all-focused on the bits of material in front of her. Various amounts of assorted ingredients were arranged in small heaps on the table. Her cauldron, filled with a thick concoction, was being heated.

Noir took a deep breath. She must get this potion done right and in time.

* * *

Author's note: T-T okay, I know that was short for such a long time of absence, but at least I had time to get this right. I have been suffering liver dysfunctions, a series of severe sore throats, and college overwork (laughs) Now that I'm quite fit, I hope I can be updating more often. For that, read and review, please, everyone n-n! 


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